


calling when i need you (and my heart's on fire).

by patheticfallacies



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feels, Fluffy Ending, Romanticism, Sad and Happy, Umbrella Academy - Freeform, not a lot but, not following any canon, reader is one of the 43, some mention of wounds, truly this is just the freeform romanticism that i wish i could do all the time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:21:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24905248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patheticfallacies/pseuds/patheticfallacies
Summary: ❝you come to me and give me everything i need,give me a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams❞or, he's hopelessly fallen for an angel of a woman, but he barely even knows her real first name (or does he even have that luxury?)
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

_**"HIYA, COWBOY,"**_ she sang, not even bothering to look up from the glasses. Somehow, she always knew when he was coming, from the way he walked, or something. He could never figure it out, and she refused him the right to ever know. Said it was her little secret (and secretly, he appreciated that someone even cared so much to recognise him coming). 

“Long time no see.”

“Not  _ that  _ long.”

“Well, long enough for me ta’worry you were gonna turn up  _ dead _ .”

Diego grinned at that. He sank into a stool, straddling it and only wincing a little as an ill-bandaged wound got bumped. At least she wasn’t looking and for once, missed the flash of pain across his face.

“You missed me, huh?”

She glanced up at that, a cheery smile licking her lips. Mocking, but only lightly; there was no malice behind it. There never was, with her. He only ever saw her happy, and gentle, and caring and healing, a goddamn fairy sailed in and posted up in a mediocre bar. How the world ignored her presence, he could not quite figure out - but he was happy still, keeping her smile to himself.

“Well sure I did. You’re my best customer -- or, you were, unt _ il _ you stopped showing.”

“D’aw, don’t do me like that.”

“I mean, there’s been some regulars catching up to you! Some tip rea-al well, too.”

He smiled at her turned back, watching her move about with a tender grace. She was a tease. Always had been. “But you still love me, don’t cha?”

“Oh,  _ sweet baby _ .” Her hands met his, brushing fingertips as she handed over his drink. An order she had had memorized since the time he walked in, a  _ fact  _ she never hesitated to remind him of. “No one could ever replace your dumb ass in my heart.”

And with that and a wink, she was off, sauntering off to the other end of the bar. Diego was left watching her and downing his beer with little passion, his thoughts really only on her. Admittedly, they usually were - especially when he was there. What other reason would he have to show up?

The two had met two years ago. It was simple and pretty ordinary in regards of a story: he had shown up for a drink, and she got to talking, mocking his outfit or something like that. She had cracked jokes and teased out more and more information from him, until it felt like he was unloading all his secrets onto her in a matter of minutes. But strangely, he didn’t feel weird about it, like he was talking to an old friend from years back. Like he hadn’t just met the woman that night.

It turned out she was more than just a normal person, however. The second time he turned up again, weary but eager to see her, she had noticed the limp in his usual swagger and unravelled his excuses instantly. Fifteen minutes later and he was a new man; no bruises, no cuts, and barely an ache left in his body. A  _ miracle _ . And all it had taken was a quick touch from her and a sly smile, like she had fucking charmed him all the way back together.

It took two more visits to get the truth out of her.

Really, it took him strolling in bleeding half to death to get his extremely vague answer. It was a  _ gift _ , she said simply. A ‘healing touch’, as her parents had put it. Diego got very little other than that, though, no matter how he poked and prodded and pleaded for more. For all the charm and open nature the woman oozed, her life was very much a secret. And despite all the time the two spent talking, he still felt like he knew absolutely  _ nothing  _ about her.

“How was work today?” Y/N asked, grabbing his glass for a refill. Her hands lingered too long, however, wrapping around his own slim fingers and tracing the bone, searching for a rift inside to heal. A sneaky trick, but he couldn't complain for the free miracle work. “Any, er, issues?”

Diego shivered. No matter how many times he had turned up, the tingly feeling was still something to get used to. His eyes met hers; dark brown boring into her own, glimmering in the dim bar lights. 

“ _ Thank you, _ ” he whispered.

She only nodded, took his glass, and turned away with still that sweet smile. He watched her move, eyes trained on her figure darting about from place to place. That was how she worked. Never took an apology or anything from her actions, just a grin, waiting for him to jump to the next conversation point, like-

“-you workin’ late tonight?”

Her head shook left to right. “Nope. I got Stacey to take the late shift, so I could actually sleep tonight. I got an early breakfast date, you know.”

“ _Do_ you now?”

She turned, and he almost  _ winced  _ at how pretty she looked just then. He thought that often, sure, but sometimes it hit him randomly and  _ too  _ hard - unexpectedly shocking him into a moment of silence. How such a beautiful being could exist in this stupidly cruel world, he couldn’t say.

What he wouldn't do for her. Fucking hell.

“Oh, yeah. Several, actually. Pancake breakfast with my favourite senior citizens - who could say no?”

God, her smile was perfection - like she was an angel descended from heaven itself, dressed in stained work clothes. She wasn’t meant for here, Diego mused to himself. Meant for so much more than a shitty job. If she looked this good in a ratty bar on the corner of Nowhere and Nobody - she could move mountains, surely, run empires, wear a fucking cape like a comic book hero and pull it off. 

“S-sure,” he managed to spit out, realising he hadn’t offered a response back. His hands wrapped around the glass and clung tight. “Yeah. You, uh, still going weekly?”

“Uh-huh! If I’m not working. But I’ve gotten good at wrangling out of shifts.” Y/N grinned a little bigger at that, but not so genuinely. It didn’t reach her eyes that time, Diego realised. “Know what to offer them to get what we both want.”

He had no clue what that meant. But he certainly didn’t like the way she said it.

“How long are you planning on staying tonight, huh?” She was changing the subject, as she always did. Never letting it stray too close to her personal life, always dancing the line before darting away from who she really was. “You got anything else on your schedule?”

Diego just shook his head, staring down the half-emptied glass in front of him. “No more for me. I’d rather catch up with my favourite bartender, instead?”

“D’aw,” she cooed - slightly sarcastically, but still joy flashing in her eyes at his words. “You’re just trying to kiss my ass enough to earn a free drink again, aren’t you?”

“What, me?  _ Never _ .”

She rolled her eyes and turned away. They both knew their routine anyways. She’d pass any of his orders under her ‘discount’, basically give it to him free - but he insisted every time on a whopping tip. One she rejected, until he slipped it to her at the end, arguing that if she did not take it he would just tell her boss about the dishonesty. Not that he ever would,  _ of course _ . She knew that. But it was routine and neither cared to change it.

Diego stayed for the rest of her shift, just as he always did; lazily sipping away at his single glass of beer and keeping her company. They chatted when she had the chance, and when she didn’t he kept a careful eye, making sure no one tried anything. He  _ knew  _ she could handle herself. But he enjoyed being there to offer any aid necessary. Made him feel needed, in a stupid cheesy way.

  
  


She smiled and mumbled a thank you to his door-holding, slipping under the door and waiting for him to follow. The two walked side by side, shoulders brushing every so often but always accidentally. It filled quickly with small talk - her asking about his night, him questioning about the same, filling the short walk home with light topics. They were both quietly aware of what and what not to bring up, even if they wished to satisfy their curiosity, and both respected it.

When they reached her apartment doors, as always, the woman turned and glanced back to him. She smiled softly. “You wanna come in? Get warm before heading home?”

And as always, Diego shook his head. “‘Fraid not this time. Maybe another night.”

“Mm,” she sighed, like the other million occasions. It was a pretty pattern of two stubborn adults refusing to entertain the thought of each other’s company. Both believing the other one couldn’t really stand them long enough, or maybe they would fray the easy relationship built between them.

“I’ll see you then. Be safe. Okay?”

“Always am.”

She laughed a little at that, soft and quiet in the cool night air. “Sure you are. If you need  _ anything _ , I’ll be here.”

Diego appreciated that. Even if he really didn’t want to force himself on her more than he did, he appreciated her overwhelmingly caring nature. 

  
  


||

  
  


_ HE REALLY HATED HIMSELF FOR DOING...WHATEVER HE WAS DOING. _ Hauling his ass up fire escape after fire escape, silently wincing every time any muscle stretched inside, reminding him of the chasm of pain building within. If he had any other option, Diego would have jumped for it - but he was too hurt to lick his own wounds clean. And the hospital was a no go.

So there he was, scaling her apartment building way too early in the morning, trying to swallow all his moans and groans of horrific pain echoing with every movement. He knew that this would be a move he regretted, but did he have another excuse? Besides. Diego would make it up to her later, somehow. He’d have to, wouldn’t be able to live with himself after taking advantage of her abilities like this.

He nearly wept in relief, finally reaching her window. It was pitch dark in her apartment; probably because she was sleeping. Which made sense. It was three in the morning and she should be sleeping, should be able to live through the night without - damn, he was really going to regret using her like this.

But now was not the time to look back, mostly because he certainly was not going to make it back down in one piece. With a heavy sigh, Diego began his work. It only took a minute to unlock her window and lift it open. He heaved himself over the side and slipped down rather ungracefully  _ (ungracefully, meaning he totally fell forward and slid painfully down to hit the hardwood floor, practically face planting like a total idiot) _ .

Whatever. At least he got in.

Most of his strength was out at that point, lost after his great attempts to break into her place. But he couldn’t just lay there to rot on his floor. Diego  _ needed  _ her, had to find her, somehow. He lifted himself into a staggering sitting position, back propped up against the wall, and pressed a hand against the wound in his side. Immediately, the glove came wet. He definitely made that shit worse.

“Y/N…” he cried out, weakly begging for her, mumbling her name even as his vision blurred and his body gave out. Still, he called, saying the name over and over until his lips could not physically move any more. 

Just as his lids could slip shut and his hand fall limp against the wound, Diego felt it caught up in someone’s one. Small and warm, ignoring the blood probably staining their skin. His tired eyes met her own, barely focused on her weary concern. She was mumbling something about how glad he was an idiot and how he looked like a ‘walking corpse’. Her hands were already dripping red and shaking and he could see how worn she looked. Hell, she was yawning even while scolding him.

Even seconds away from passing out, he smiled. 

He wanted to say something to her, explain himself, even just tell her how fucking beautiful she looked - but all he could do, was squeeze her fingers once, before losing strength and falling limp.

“I….s...”

Just as he faded away, he heard her sweet voice, reassuring him that everything would just be fine.

And Diego believed her  _ irrevocably _ .

||

_ HE WOKE UP CONFUSED AND TO BLINDING LIGHT. _ Diego scrunched his eyes shut and turned away from it, only to immediately spring up after. 

This wasn’t right. None of it was. He  _ never  _ woke up to the sunlight; his place barely had a window big enough to see out, and he was up long before the sun was, anyways. To make things weirder, he was on a couch. Not one he knew, either. Why the hell was he on this grey couch? Where was -

“-oh hey. You’re awake.”

Diego started at the voice, practically throwing himself off the couch in shock. He had not been expecting  _ her  _ so early in the morning. For a second, he even thought to pinch himself, like maybe this was a weird dream he had found himself stuck in. Was her jaw about to unhinge and swallow him up? Was he going to wake up panting and sweaty in his real bed, confused at how well his sleeping mind recreated her apartment? God, what had he  _ done  _ last night?

“Judging by your face, you probably don’t remember much of last night.” She had a weird look to her, smiling. Sure she was  _ always  _ smiling, Diego knew that much, but this look was different. She looked tired, just barely holding onto her sunny persona. “How far does your memory go back?”

Diego gratefully accepted the steaming mug of coffee offered, holding it tight in his hands despite the burning porcelain. He barely recognised it, in his confusion. “I...I...I remember... shit, I-”

“-don’t panic, cowboy.” Y/N’s fingers found his own, pulling him away from his shirt even before he could lift it. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I took care of all that. I’m guessing things went sideways last night, or you ran into something unexpected because - I’ve seen you black and blue and red all over, Diego Hargreeves, but last night? You looked like your insides had been scrambled up with a crowbar. Or...something.”

He winced. “Yeah,” he grumbled, coughing once to clear the thick rasp distorting his voice. “I...ran into some trouble. Got stabbed with somethin’, can’t remember what - fucking railing, maybe. Whatever it was, it was a bitch to pull out...and bad. Could barely make it here.”

“Hm,” she muttered sagely. “Well, first rule of operation? Don’t pull out - not  _ sexually,  _ wound-wise. You could have bled out then and there, you know.”

Diego smiled a little at her joke, but it quickly faded once the gravity of his situation sank in. “I’m...I’m really sorry. I wouldn’t a’come. I didn’t want to, I just...c-couldn’t go to the hospital.”

“Don’t apologise.”

“But-”

“-I don’t offer up to help you just to play nice,” she interrupted. Her hands left his and immediately he missed the warmth; wished she had kept them intertwined with his. “I want to help you, no matter the time or day. You’re no good to anyone dead, Diego.”

“But-”

“-no buts, no  _ buts _ ! I won’t allow it in my fucking home.” A second of hesitation, and then, “I’m  _ glad  _ you came to me, even if you almost screwed yourself over by pulling that thing out. And I’ll do that for you whenever - okay?”

“O...okay.”

She smiled then, a little bigger, and patted his shoulder before standing up. He watched her weave her way back to the kitchen, pulling out drawers and opening her cupboards in search of something. 

“You hungry?”

“Uh…”

“Dumb question. ‘Course you are. Hope you don’t have any allergies, cowboy, ‘cause I’m not looking to poison you. I don’t know if my body can take another full resuscitation, you feel me?”

Guilt flooded his mind at those simple words. It was a joke, but he knew very well it was so much more than that. 

Diego knew very little about her strange healing abilities, mostly because she never dared to say a thing passed that she could do it - but he never thought about her stamina levels. She worked all day, and spent a lot of it with young children or elders, doing her best to alleviate their pain and suffering, and then healed his  _ own  _ scrapes without even a bat of her eye. But how much did that take out of her? How limited was her power supply, and just how much damage did he do to her last night? 

His stupid fucking job. Or, him,  _ just  _ stupid fucking him. 

“I...I’m sorry.”

Y/N whirled around, frowning. “Sorry? For what?  _ Do  _ you have an allergy?”

“No. No, I just - I-I didn’t think about all this. Didn’t consider you, what this took out of you.”

“There’s no need to.”

“Y/N, you look exhausted.”

“I never look good in the mornings, I have bad genetics.”

“You  _ always  _ look beautiful,” he murmured softly. Diego’s mind was so tangled up with self-loathing and guilt, he missed her flush at the compliment, only considering her current state. “But you’ve gotta be tired, doing what you did for me last night. And after whatever yo-you did before.”

She turned away from him then. He assumed so he could not see her expression, giving her a second to fix her face before he could figure her out more. 

That frustrated him.

He did not want to push at her, but at the same time? He couldn’t help it. Diego could  _ see  _ what had been done to her by him showing up, the repercussions of his recklessness. And his guilt was eating him alive from the inside out, watching her cook for him after a night like that.

Before he could voice these thoughts, however, she spoke instead.

“I really didn’t mind, Diego.” Her voice was solemn and quiet. She paused, cracking several eggs in the pan, back still turned as she spoke again. “I - I don’t know. I don’t mind dealing with being tired if it means you’re still alive, you know? Kind of the  _ least  _ I can do.”

“How...what do you mean?”

One shoulder shrugged haplessly. “You rush around the city every night, risking yourself to save dozens of innocent civilians. You’re a hero, you know? Using your powers for good, straight out of a comic book. I...I don’t do that. Can’t. But if I can do  _ this _ , help an actual superhero out, that’ll make me feel like...uh, you know. Whatever. Sorry, I don’t know where I’m going with this.”

“S’fine.”

She glanced back at him then, seemingly startled when his voice came closer than before. Her eyes reflected a certain sadness he could not begin to read, but her lips still curved upwards. She smiled  _ even  _ in her exhausted state, like there were no cares in the world.

He had no idea how she did it.

“You’re my friend, cowboy,” she finished. Her gaze turned back to the eggs. “Friends help friends out. No shits given over it.”

“I  _ will  _ make this up to you.”

“Whatever you say. But before you even think about that, you  _ should  _ shower and clean yourself up. Feel free to stick your clothes in the washer, it’s down the hall, there’s cleaning shit too if you want to try and get those stains out.” She smiled ruefully. “Might be an impossible mission, but you can try, unless you wanna sit in your own blood for breakfast.”

Diego could only get out a soft ‘thanks’ before turning away with a frown. Another conversation brushed off, deflected back onto his well being and refusing any sort of answers he could get from her.

But she had a point. His clothes were soaked in his blood, and although the black did cover it up, it didn’t change how gross he felt. 

And so he did as she suggested, albeit slowly; threw his things into her washer on quick load and slinked away to the bathroom nearby. He worked as fast as he could to clean, washing away the blood and dirt and leaving minutes later. No point racking up her water bill too, right?

Diego paused in the bathroom mirror, rubbing away the fog so he could stare at his shirtless figure. All his previous wounds, including the gruesome slash ripped into his side, had disappeared and only past scars remained. He ran a finger down where it should be, staring at the unmarred skin in the reflection.

“Goddamn miracle,” he murmured to himself. 

Diego’s eyes raised and before they left his face, they caught on a photograph he hadn’t ever seen before. He turned to look at it properly. It was simple, a singular black frame pressed on a gray wall. If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t think twice about it. But seeing any picture of Y/N at all was strange, considering the minimalism the rest of her place claimed. And especially, seeing her with someone else.

Her arm was slung around another girl and in return, the other clung tightly to her shoulders. They wore matching smiles as they stared down the camera. The picture must be old, he mused, as Y/N looked at least a decade younger. She must have only been sixteen or so when the photo was taken. The other girl looked only maybe a year or two older. They didn’t look too alike, though he still didn’t remove ‘sisters’ from his thoughts on relations. From what little he knew about Y/N, he did gather she did not live with her birth parents,  _ whoever  _ they might be.

His finger traced the small, cursive font at the bottom.  _ ‘The Bowen girls’ _ , it read. His lip twisted at that.

All in all, the photo was not strange. What was, however, was how genuinely happy Y/N looked, standing there with the mystery girl. Sure, Diego had seen her smiling since the day he had met her - but not like  _ that _ . Not so overjoyed at something good, with someone she seemed to truly love by her side. There were no shadows dancing in her eyes, no hidden sadness she swallowed down when it bubbled too high. Just pure, unadulterated happiness.

Course, she was a kid, but still. He could not imagine what had changed so drastically for her, or how, only imagine the life lived between the photo and her now. He could only wish he knew.

“Diego?”

He tore his eyes away from the photo, over to Y/N standing in the doorway. She watched his own hand fall from the frame, and he in turn saw a flash of panic paint her pretty features - much darker than ever before. Almost in slow motion, they moved, him away from the frame and her towards it, shuffling in front of it as though that could erase it from his mind.

“Glad you’re done your shower,” she finally bit out, struggling with her words as the seconds dragged on. “Uh...food’s ready. If you’re interested.”

Diego just followed her out, only pausing for a moment to pull his shirt from the dryer - he had to remember to thank her for moving it. He took a seat at the counter, her still behind it, fidgeting with any little object nearby. He watched her carefully, gauging her level of emotion before daring to ask the question on his mind.

“Is that your sister?”

She didn’t look his way. “Who?”

“The girl. In the bathroom. In the photo,” he explained - as though he needed to. They both knew who he was referring to. “You two seemed-”

“-no.”

“I-”

“-no relation.”

“Oh.”

Y/N didn’t look his way. She didn’t even acknowledge his apology like she always would before. Instead, she focused on her plate, scraping her scrambled eggs around and watching like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. His question had obviously struck a chord within, but he couldn’t imagine a way of fixing it, considering he did not even know the reason why. And so, he just waited and ate in silence.

After a few minutes of extreme tension, Y/N spoke again, but her tone was cold and clipped. Never before had he heard that from her.

“I’ve got to get to work by ten. Gotta get ready. You think you’re okay to let yourself out?”

Diego nodded dumbly.

“Great. Take your time, don’t sweat about running off, I just need to get ready.” Y/N smiled tightly. “Coffee’s there, if you want any.”

And he watched her walk away without another word, leaving him alone, dumbfounded and with about a dozen more questions than before.


	2. Chapter 2

_IT WAS ONLY A FEW DAYS LATER, WHEN THEY SPOKE AGAIN._

After the uneasy finish to their last situation, the pair did talk, though tensions did seem slightly higher than before. Diego still stopped by the bar as much as he could, made sure to walk her home and kept light small talk that she matched. However, neither one addressed anything past the weather and their nightly happenings. Which was fine. For the most part. At least for a while.

But all that changed just a week later, when Diego found himself in yet another position of asking her for a favour he might not be able to pay back. That time, not even for him.

It had been a quiet night for Y/N, which she had imagined from the start. After all, it was a weekday and she had an early enough shift. Very few customers trickled in throughout. Y/N found herself idling to the side, pretending to clean when in reality, she was tracing designs into the worn wood and waiting for the clock to hit eight. Five minutes left until she had clearance to go and _oh_ , how she was counting the seconds. Sure, her days were always tiresome, but that day, with a shift at work and a prolonged visit made it feel excruciatingly long. It certainly felt like an early shift had been earned.

But no one was ever so lucky as to receive _one “_ good karma” day, at least not in her case.

When the telltale bell tinkled over the door, she glanced up and immediately broke into a smile. Y/N abandoned the cloth she was holding and slipped around the bar, meeting him halfway. She paused before touching him, however, taking in the grim look on his face. She knew him too well to know what that meant.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, lips pursed and tone sharp. Not in anger, but in professional calm, already trying to analyse the situation. “Are you hurt? Where?”

“Hey, no I’m- _I’m_ fine,” he whispered, pulling her smaller hands from his body. Even as he did, Diego shivered; she had found any scrapes and cuts and healed them instantaneously, leaving his muscles tingling and new. “It’s not me.”

“Then what?”

“I-I need to ask a favour. A big one.” Diego glanced past her to the bar. “Can you get out of here?”

Y/N nodded and raced back to the counter, moving as fast as she could to grab her things. She only spared a quick sentence to the only other bartender on sight, not even bothering with a good excuse before pulling away. Her powers did not render her a mind-reader, but she could feel the panic rush in his veins, practically _tasting_ his fear. Something was wrong, and she feared it could be deadly.

His face scared her. She knew it all too well, and -

\- fear was a dangerous weapon, and she’d be damned to lose whoever he cared for to it. Pushing past her worries, Y/N forced herself into a cold mindset.

“Where are we-”

“-my car. There.”

She nodded and let him take her arm without question. The two rushed out into the cold air, but before she could even register the chill, Diego was pulling her quickly over to his beat-up vehicle at the side.

“M-my brother,” he rushed out. His tone was clipped and full of panic. “I found him unresponsive, got him a bit better but he’s fucking...I...I don’t know.”

Y/N nodded and opened the car door, bending down so she could awkwardly kneel. Carefully, she shuffled in and without touching, allowed herself to take in the sight. It was far from a pretty one.

The tall, dark-haired willow of a man was barely keeping himself conscious. He sat with his head lolled back, eyes glazed over and blank. She recognised the stain of red against his rather frivolous outfit, but that did not seem to be the worst damage done to him, not that night. The beads of sweat, bluish tinge to his skin, and the rattle of breath barely leaving his lips - 

Y/N pulled her head back out to look Diego’s way.

“Do you know _anything_ about what he’s taken?”

The man just shook his head.

She pursed her lips again and glanced back into the backseat. It really wouldn’t matter anyways. The guy was half dead and quickly losing minutes, no matter what was in his system. “Okay. He’s in bad shape, but he’s clearly breathing, and I - we need to get back to my place, as soon as possible.”

“What? N-no, he needs help, now-”

“-I can’t _do_ all this now,” she finished, her tone softer that time. Y/N looked his way that time, staring deep into his dark eyes, filled with emotions she could only recognise from a handful of times. Some, not his memories - but her own. “I don’t have the strength. Judging the state he’s in, I need to get some energy in me. It’s a two minute drive easy. Okay?”

“Okay. I-if you’re sure.”

She nodded. “I _am_.”

A total fucking lie. Even as she climbed into his front seat - warning him she couldn’t touch him without automatically expending the energy - Y/N was scared. And they both were. Their situation was bleak and though she had a great weapon on her side, it wasn’t an endless energy source. She was still human. Depending on how things went…

Y/N sighed and leant her head against the glass to cool her cheek. Just two minutes.

They made it into the parking lot and out of the car easily. Diego carried his brother as though he weighed nothing - though, judging by the man’s appearance, that could be true. Y/N lead them up the stairs and up to the fourth floor. The trio raced down the thin hallway and to her door, where she wasted no time unlocking it.

“Get him to the couch, lay him down. Elevate his head. I’ll be right back,” she ordered, only wasting a moment to watch before pulling away. Y/N slipped around her apartment corner and into her bedroom. She fell to her knees at her bedside table drawer and yanked it open. With shaky hands, she pulled out the bottle hidden towards the back and ripped them open. There were only a handful of pills left, but they would do - hopefully, enough to perform a miracle.

The ‘adrenaline’, a bad word for something she really couldn’t explain in a simple sentence, had been a gift for emergencies only. They shocked her body into a state of high-energy where it was easier to ignore any exhaustion and push through any task ahead, provided it was short. A caffeine shot for the superpowered nurse. But they weren’t miracle pills; they had limits and those limits could be met without minutes. 

Y/N swallowed the pill-and-water mixture down and prepared the rest without a second thought. All her focus was on this man - but more than that, selfishly it was the look of pure panic etched into Diego’s skin. It was painful, seeing a good man that way, and worse even knowing what was racking through his mind right then. The machine-gun rapid fire of worst possible outcomes mixed with ‘allmyfault’ messages and grief already lurking in the shadows within. The evident trauma, fear and confusion, not knowing what was going on or if they’d make it out alive - what she would not do, to forever wipe that from his face. If she could do it, Y/N knew, she would.

Somehow.

“Y/N! He’s - he’s - he’s losing it!”

“Coming!” 

The woman barrelled right around the way she came, pills already halfway down her throat. Y/N threw down the bottle, ignoring his confused glance, and popped the last two in her mouth. Only a second later and they were down her throat. Within a minute, even as she was taking his brother’s hands, she could feel them in her system, building inside her like a time bomb. She winced. 

“Can you save him?!”

“Yes,” she whispered. Her hands met the man’s neck; still quite warm, but without a pulse. Almost declarably dead.

Y/N bent over his chest and huffed. Her energy began to drain even as quickly as it came, flooding into the lily-white skin like moths drawn to a flame. She could fucking feel it _tear_ through her like a cup of too-hot coffee, only a thousand times hotter and ripping apart her insides, even as she saved his. “I - I can do this. He’ll be fine. Just…” she trailed off, finding little strength to continue.

Already she could feel herself becoming drained. Pills or no pills. It had been a long day for her and a lot of her energy had already been expended. And the state the young man was in didn’t help much. Between the copious amount of drugs in his system, enough for an overdose several times over and the wound in his upper chest? Y/N was shocked he hadn’t been dead twenty minutes ago. But if he wasn’t yet, if…

She shook her head and continued to push, cradling his frail body against her own trembling one. Some colour was flooding his cheeks, and she could feel a pulse beat faintly; but it wasn’t enough. Not even close. She would not be the reason for Diego Hargreeves’ heart to break, more than it has seemed to before.

“When he...wakes,” she breathed, struggling to form words in her weakened state, “needs...water...liquids...there’s gatorade in...fridge…”

“Y/N? Holy shit, I-”

“-fine,” she replied. Blearily, she reached a hand up to touch her nose; pulling it back, she recognised red. She wiped it away without a second thought. “Jus...ready...okay?”

She was done looking Diego’s way. Her energy had to be on the brother, focusing everything she had into making sure he survived. Y/N gritted her teeth and scrunched her eyes tight, practically squeezing the life back into his body. She shook and trembled but still would not let go, breaths coming in heavy pants of exertion over his frame, like a broken song from someone too tired to properly sing.

From somewhere far away, she heard Diego’s voice, but it seemed too distant to make out. Not that she would listen anyways. Too much was committed to this life; letting go would be the downfall of them both.

“Come on,” she hissed, blinking away the hot tears leaving her eyes. “C’mon….come _on_...”

She was losing it, hard and fast. Could feel the sensation of darkness flood in, pulling her away from reality - and yet, she refused to let go. Just held on tighter and begged for life to come back to him, before she lost her own.

And just before she could totally succumb, she felt the pulse pick up and heard a shaky gasp of air echo from the young man’s lips.

And just as she fell back, eyes rolling up and only seeing darkness, Y/N smiled.

  
  


||

  
  
  


_SHE WOKE UP ALONE, AND IN THE DARK._

Y/N sat up thrashing, a scream dying in her throat as her hands clutched her sheets. Once she recognised the feeling in her hands and realised she was in her bed, she calmed slightly, but still remained on edge. There was no memory of how she got there, or really anything past hearing Diego’s brother’s breath, and there was no telling what had happened between that and waking up.

Hesitantly, she unravelled herself from her comforter and stepped out, hissing at the cold on her feet. She found the light and stepped towards the tiny mirror in the corner to inspect herself, only met with a piss-poor version of the being she woke up as.

She was doused in sweat, her thin work clothes clinging to her body and her hair a mess upon her forehead. That was easily passed off, however, when Y/N finally got the courage to look at her face. She found a gaunt, almost dead version of her face looking back at her, with shadows pressed into any part they could, dark circles turning into bruises against her ashen face. In a nice way? She looked like she had gone to hell and back.

If she was being truly honest? It looked like she hadn’t survived it.

But little she cared for that. Her bones screamed for rest, every particle in her body weakened by the traumatic work of earlier, but there were questions to be answered. A life, potentially hanging in the balance. Y/N stripped her clothes off and found new ones, a fluffy sweatshirt and worn pants to match, something that would keep herself a little warmer. She only bothered a minute with her face and hair, sweeping it back and wiping a cloth against her skin before abandoning her attempts and finally opening her bedroom door.

The lights were dim in the apartment, but they were on, which meant people were still there. Cautiously, Y/N crept down the hall, stopping only when she reached the living room area.

There the man lay. His chest rose and fell with little stress, almost beautifully, oxygen finally lending the brother a hand up. He slept peacefully. Hands swept underneath his chin, scruffy hair falling without a care over his shut eyes. Y/N watched for a long moment, taking in his hollowed features but also the pink in his cheeks, and the way he snored ever so slightly. Signs of sustained life.

She sighed heavily and blinked the tears away.

“Hey.”

Y/N squealed and whirled around to find Diego. Quickly, she stepped closer, explaining with flushed cheeks that she ‘didn’t hear him coming’. But before she could even begin to say sorry-

-he was there. Holding her. Crushing her against his chest. His arms clung tighter than she ever thought possible, pressing against her hips and head with his own fallen into her shoulder. She could only hear, then, the rapid beating of his heart, a harsh staccato that would not stop going off like her own personal marching band. It was all she could hear, the thu-thump a heart-wrenching story of emotion she knew he could not say aloud.

“I-I-” he stopped, pulling away to stare her down. Only then did she see his reddened eyes and the tell-tale streaks of past tears shed dripped down his cheeks. Not only that, but the new drops welling in his eyes then, threatening to fall if he did not act soon. 

She realised then, that she had never seen the man sad like this, let alone cry. It was disheartening and heart-breaking, too, and still there was nothing she could do to ease the pain. She had thought it would leave after she fixed his brother, but seemingly, the almost-loss still affected him. Which she understood; seeing a loved one in that state was horrifying. 

Wistfully, she mused to herself how she’d give her heart and mind, to fix his aching ones. _Wasn’t fair for the good ones to feel such sorrow._

Diego swiped angrily at his face before resting his hand once more on her shoulder. “I thought you were dead,” he whispered, barely a sound amongst the silence. “I-I - ho-I -I’m so s-s-s-s-so-”

“-it’s okay,” she murmured. Her hand, limp at her side during this all, rose to press against his dampened cheek. He leaned into the touch. “It’s okay.”

“B-but-”

“-come,” she interrupted again. She pulled away from his face, and in turn found his hands halfway, which had immediately reached to tug her close. “Let’s let him sleep, yeah?”

  
His ‘okay’ was barely a breath.

Diego and Y/N slipped around the corner to her tiny kitchen, where he soundlessly ushered her to a bar stool. She found herself watching his turned figure shuffle around, quietly trying to steel herself and wish strength upon him, too. Whatever he needed it for, she could tell it was difficult for him to keep his composure just then.

Little did either notice, but it was a near-perfect parallel to just weeks before. Only where it had been her bustling about, instead she sat with her knees pulled to her chest and head on her palm, watching him work, no clue her eyes were on his every move.

“Thanks,” she said softly, gratefully accepting the cup.

Diego only nodded.

“How long...” Y/N dared a sip. The coffee was too hot, but she swallowed anyway. The burn was a relief from the ache deep within. “How long was I out?”

Diego shrugged his shoulders. “Three, four hours, maybe.”

“Okay.”

“I - Klaus conked out quickly after getting up.” Vaguely, Y/N recognised that name, but not enough to interrupt his staggered speech. She remained quiet. “Gave him water, he took a piss, whatever.”

“So he’s okay?”

“He’s-” Diego paused to take in a shaky breath, ending it with a bitter laugh. “Fuck, Y/N. He’s fine. You brought him back without a f-f-fucking scratch.”

Y/N bit her lip. Her mind couldn’t understand his face - wouldn’t he be happy, to know he was fine? Why was his voice rising in anger? “Good.”

“Good? You saved - you nearly - _I thought you were dead_ ,” he roared, the loudest sound she had heard since waking. Diego ran a hand through his hair, hiding his nervous tremble in the motion. “I thought you were dead, Y/N.”

“I’m not.”

“You - but - y-you had no life, in you,” he threw back. His words, fueled by frustration and pain, felt like hail against her skin. “I s-sat on that floor for ages, shaking you, trying to wake you up. You were a fucking corpse in my hands. You know that?”

Y/N avoided his gaze. She stared down the dark liquid in her cup, watching the ripples fade and build with every movement. God, she wished he hadn’t said that. _Why couldn’t she have done this better?_ “Occupational hazard.”

“Oc-no. You almost died, for him. For _me_ ! And you know I _c-c-c-Jesus_ , Y/N, why wouldn’t you stop?!”   
  


Fresh tears stung at her waterline, and without any regard, she let them fall. They dripped silver waterfalls down her cheeks, down her chin and neck, leaving wet across her skin. Cold. “I…”

“Why wouldn’t you stop!?” he asked again, pounding a fist against the countertop. Once, twice, three times in a row, no regards to the sleeping man in the other room. “W-w-w-why wouldn’t you stop?”

“I don’t know,” she cried. “I don’t know!”

It was then he stopped, fist clenched against the counter and eyes locked in hers. Both matching tragic expressions, flushed cheeks and teary gazes, begging for something from the other that they couldn’t figure out. Something more than comfort, but simple, and yearning, dark and deep within their broken bodies.

“I couldn’t _stop_ , Diego.”

“Why?”

“His life was in my hands,” she sobbed, no longer even noticing the water falling, anymore, or anything apart from him. “I couldn’t just let him die, not if - if I could do _something-_ ”

-without another word uttered he was there. Arms tight around her again, holding her to him with the tenderness of a mother. She sobbed then, openly, into his sweater. He just held on, whispering a thousand sorry’s into her hair, followed by gentle kisses to seal them in.

Finally, Y/N pulled away, only to gently rest her head on his shoulder, leaning into his warm skin with a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Diego-”

“-you saved his life. A stranger. A no-one,” he clipped tersely. “Don’t think that you need to...I was just _scared_.”

Y/N sniffled. “I thought I had it.”

Another lie, stringing along a lovely line of insults pressed into her wounds. She just wanted him to be okay, and to let go, and fucking leave -

\- but she did not want him to go, how could she try to convince herself of that? She longed for his touch, his arms to forever bind around her, hold her together before she could shatter, but the longing was selfish and cruel to him and herself. For a good man like him...

“And I did, too. I didn’t think it could get so bad, else I would’a…”

“...I wouldn’t have let you stop me,” she mumbled, lips barely a breath away from his skin. “You couldn’t have stopped me.”

Diego just sighed at that, and held her a little tighter.

“When I heard you say _brother_ ,” Y/N whispered tentatively, “I...I mean, I saw the look in your eyes. The fear. You couldn’t lose him.”

“ _But-_ ”

“-you would do _anything_ for him,” she continued, “I knew that. And I couldn’t let myself let you down and feel that pain of losing your sibling.” _Another_ , hung between them, unsaid but true. “I wouldn’t let myself be the one to cause that pain, for you.”

Diego sighed, heavy against her. “I didn’t want to _sacrifice_ you.”

“You didn’t. I chose my path.”

“I forced it on you.”

Y/N laughed, but there was nothing behind it; just an empty sound to hide her ache inside. She pulled back, smiling softly up at him. “You are too hard on yourself, Diego. Haven’t I told you enough that this, this is what friends are for?”

Diego pulled away then, to her surprise. He tugged his hands out of her reach and instead, gripped her marble counter, hard enough for his knuckles to pale and contort. He didn’t look at her.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Friends don’t do this, Y/N. I - I mean, they don’t do _this_. I charge in here every other week asking for you to save my life over and over and then leave. Just like that. I don’t know a single thing about you, and yet you just - I don’t understand you. At all.”

Her lip was slowly being pummeled alive by her teeth, ground into stinging flesh in between the top and bottom row. “I don’t understand. What more do you want from me?”

“Want? I don’t -” he laughed, deep and bitter, exhales turning into what could have been sobs. Still, he refused to look her way, gaze pointed down towards his hands. “I hate myself, every time I come back to you. But I can’t stop, you know? You’re a miracle worker, and you’re so fucking good. You smile and do whatever you can to heal me and then some. It wears you out, I see it on your face every time. I don’t even know if you sleep anymore. But I can’t stop coming to you. And doing this to you. You’re just this stranger that I’m hopelessly in l-l…” he stopped himself there, ending the sentence with a shuddered breath. “Why do you do this to yourself, Y/N?”

His words were crude and plain and really added up to nothing - but yet, she knew exactly what he was asking. It wasn’t hard to figure out. He wanted to know, just as she had asked of him, who she was and why she would lay her life on the line for countless strangers with darker hearts than her own. Why she shirked away from praise or questions of how she did anything.

She watched him shift, shadows darkening on his face, pulling his handsome features into agony. Y/N wanted more than anything to smooth them out, kiss the pain out of his face, heal the frustrated grief - even if it was an impossible request.

“I do this, because I can. Don’t we all? I mean, c’mon, you do the same every other night.”

“Not like you do.”

“Sure you do. We’re the same, you n’I, Diego.”

“No we’re not!” he barked back. “We’re nothing alike, you and I!”

“God, what do you want from me?! A tragic backstory, an apology, a denial of the shit I can do? You want me to give up and just pretend like I’m like every other Joe? What?!”

“I don’t know, I just-”

“-just _what_ ?”   
  


Only then did his eyes meet hers, staring her down with a power she had rarely seen from him. Every emotion danced over his skin and she found herself reading him like a book. He was the same as her, dealing with their pain by helping others, hoping somehow they can make their grievances sit a little better. Like fixing other people’s futures, could mend their past.

“I can’t keep watching you kill yourself, like this,” he mumbled. His fists left the counter and collapsed by his side, limp and trembling. “I care so much for you, Y/N. And it’s like - s’like you can’t see that. Or won’t.”

“That’s not _fair_.”

“That’s the truth, though. Isn’t it? You won’t let me in. I don’t even know your last name, you know that? I have tried n’tried to figure you out, but you don’t let me come anywhere close to you. You keep me at arm’s length, buttering me up and healing me and doing all this shit and you don’t let me for once, care about you?”

“No.”

“No, what? That it’s not true, or no cause you don’t want to hear it?” His words were angry, but his tone reflected none of it. Instead, half the words were staggered and hoarse, like he was just about to give in halfway through every sentence. But he kept going. “I care about you, Y/N!”

“No, you don’t!”

“I do!”

“Stop,” she cried. She turned from him then, abandoning him and her tea and racing away. She knew he would follow, but still she ran, around the hall and back to her dimly lit bedroom. “You don’t want this.”

“Bullshit!”

“Go away, Diego!”

“No!”

_“GO!”_

“NO!”

Her hands raised and pushed against her bedroom door, but it didn’t shut; instead, she found an opposing force on the other side, shoving just as hard. Y/N pushed back all she could, but there was nothing to be done against him, being two times her size and ten times stronger. Instead, the door came swinging open and he stepped in with it, stopping mere inches away from her.

Y/N’s chest rose and fell in heavy pants, just as his did, almost matching in tempo. The two just stared at one another through narrowed eyes, daring the other to make their move until-

-Diego closed the distance between them and before she could dart away, pulled her in. His hands found her face and cradled it still. For a split second, they were frozen, still with locked eyes and lost for words, until his lips found her cheek, then forehead, nose and corner of mouth - never touching her lips, but a promise of emotion she could not allow herself to accept.

Unlike their exchange for words, Diego’s lips were nothing but gentle, pressing softly against hers, pliant even as she didn’t move. One hand left to hold her hip, the other rubbing circles into her skin. He held the embrace for a brief moment, waiting for any reaction from her, but when she didn’t move, he pulled away.

His forehead pressed against hers, his thumb still rubbing against her cheek. He sighed. “I want to care for you, Y/N. I _do_. Just l-let me in.”

She didn’t say anything to that, just stood with shut eyes and each shallow breath getting caught by the lump in her throat. Slowly, Y/N opened her eyes, tracing the grooves of his skin and taking in every little detail she had missed before. Subconsciously, she leant into his soft touch.

“I don’t think I’m who you want me to be, Diego.”

He didn’t say anything to that.

“I want to let you in, I do, I just...there’s more than just this. A lot’s fucked up underneath.”

“So? We’re all fucked up. Don’t mean you’re not you.”

“Di…”

“I care about you,” he mumbled, words hitting her own skin in soft jabs. He waited for a second, before speaking again. “I think you care too.”

“I do.”

“Then?...”

Y/N’s face ducked down towards the floor. “I-”

“-I’ll go.”

“ _No_.”

“I can-”

-her head lifted then, and hesitantly, Y/N leaned in until her lips met his. And only then, did either think to relax; her hand reaching up to cradle his neck, his own tracing swirls into her hair. She sighed into his mouth, relishing the touch and pushing forward until all either could feel was one another, and each other alone.

“Be patient,” she whispered, into his mouth. The words were barely breaths in between each touch, and soon became swallowed up and dead. But she repeated it again. “Just be patient...with me.”

Diego pulled away just enough to reply: “anything.”

“Okay.”

“But please, don’t…”

“...I know.”

She pressed in again. Chin met his shoulder, arms around his neck clinging tightly to him as though he might disappear any second. But he remained, holding her too, silently promising her an oath bounded in emotions he dared not speak out loud.

_"Don'tleaveme."_

His grip tightened around her. " _Never_."

And he meant that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is disgustingly mediocre&ooc but we deal like men - aka vodka and tears at my deteriorating writing skills.x

**Author's Note:**

> the title's based off simply the best by tina turner (though the version i listened to was noah reid's, from schitt's creek). i felt it befitting.
> 
> this is a messy mess and i really am just posting it because it's been waiting for months and honestly...i've got nothing more i want to do with it. and i never commit to posting anything, so here we are. barebones, this fic is the idolizing of someone you believe is truly perfect and refusing any other image but that perfection... but in the form of a shitty fic i forgot i wrote. 
> 
> also, this isn't really edited. second part coming tmr.x


End file.
